The strange transfiguration of Hannah Stubbs
It had never struck Von Steinberg that she was even good-looking
before, but now she looked positively handsome--an embodiment of
youth, health, and vigour--more admirable in a doctor’s eyes, than all
the anæmic, bloodless, white flesh in the world.
He regarded her quietly for a moment--then yielding to an
unaccountable impulse, he stooped and kissed her rounded arm. Hannah
woke and caught him--she did not speak, but lay there, with her eyes
open, gazing at him--with a languid smile upon her lips.
“Come! come! you are yourself again now!” cried Von Steinberg,
quickly, “let us go into the next room! We have had a wonderful
séance, and my friends are waiting to congratulate and thank you!”
He dragged her to her feet as he spoke, and led her into the
drawing-room.
Here, the scientific men present crowded round her, eager to ascertain
if her condition were normal, or if they could trace any lingering
remains of the super-human faculty she possessed.
The women looked at her furtively and from a little distance. They
could not understand what they had seen--they could not believe it
possible, and were more ready to ascribe uncommon cleverness and
cunning to the Marchesa, than uncommon powers.
They gazed at her, and whispered to each other, and were generally
disposed to consider that the gentlemen were making too much fuss over
the matter, and that there was an excellent solution of it, if it
could only be found.
Meanwhile their husbands were pressing Hannah to fix an evening to
give a sitting at their own homes, and promising her all kinds of
preparations in honour of her compliance with their entreaties.
The Baron stood by listening, and a strange feeling of jealousy came
over him, that his guests should attempt to monopolise the powers
which he had had so much difficulty in securing for himself.
He was determined that Hannah should go to none of their houses.
“Excuse me, gentlemen!” he said, laying his hand on her arm; “but you
must allow me to have a voice in this matter! I hold the Marchesa in
trust for her husband. It was after much persuasion that he permitted
her to attend here this evening for the purpose of pleasing my guests,
but I am sure he would never hear of her visiting strangers on the
same terms. You must forgive me for saying that she can accept no
invitations without the Marchese’s leave!”
Hannah did not resent his interference, nor withdraw her arm from his
grasp--but only murmured, “That is so!”
“I had hoped,” said Dr. Derrick, with some degree of offence, “that
the Marchesa would have regarded us as friends, after the delightful
evening we have spent in her company.”
“But not to the extent of giving you sittings for the investigation of
your family,” replied Von Steinberg; “the Marchesa is not strong,
although she appears so, and as her medical adviser, I am obliged to
limit the amount of her séances. Good-night, Doctor! some other time
perhaps I may be able to ask you to repeat the experiments of
to-night.”
The visitors departed, and the butler had announced that the
Marchesa’s cab was at the door, when Von Steinberg told him to let it
wait.
“You must come in here, Hannah, and have a glass of wine or some
refreshment after your labours,” he said, leading the way into his
dining-room. “I hope you were not vexed at my interference just now,
but these people would drain you dry, if you allowed them--not caring
one whit, if you sank from fatigue and exhaustion, so long as they
gratified their own curiosity concerning you. We must take better care
of you than that.”
He poured out a glass of wine, and whilst she was drinking it, he put
his finger gently on the folds of her white dress and asked,
“What made you put on this pretty frock to-night, Hannah? I did not
know that you possessed such a one! I hardly recognised you at
first--you looked so nice! What a difference dress makes. Forgive me
for saying, that I really did not know before this evening, that you
were a handsome woman!”
“Am I?” said Hannah, with the old, broad grin. “No one ever told me so
afore! I thought as I was coming amongst grand folks, I ought to ’ave
a nice frock, so I went to Madame Cusada and she made me this. I did
feel so queer coming out to see you, as if I’d got next to nothing
on.”
“Never mind! It’s quite the fashion, you know, and you will soon get
accustomed to it! You have a lovely neck and shoulders, Hannah! Who
would think to see your hands, that they were so pink and soft! You
must try and get your hands to look like them. They will soon, now
that you do no rough work. I should like you to look nice always.”
“Should you?” said Hannah. “I don’t think the Markiss cares ’ow I
look! I ’ad to take the money out of ’is trouser pocket to buy this. I
arsked ’im for some, but ’e’s so close, ’e wouldn’t give me any, so I
just helped myself!”
“O! Hannah! you mustn’t do that again. It’s stealing! And how vexed
Ricardo would be, if he discovered the theft! Promise me, that you
will never take his money again, without his leave.”
“O! that’s all very well, but ’ow am I to get things else?” grumbled
Hannah. “What’s the good of being a Markiness, if I’m to go about in
the same old clothes day after day?”
“Well! come to me when you want money! Treat me like a brother, and
tell me all your troubles! I have more than I want--a great deal
more--and will gladly supply anything that your husband is unable to
afford you. For, you must remember, Hannah, he is very poor.”
“Beastly poor!” echoed Hannah. “What a different life _your_ wife will
lead! She’ll ’ave everything as ’er ’eart can wish for! Well! some
people is borned lucky!”
“But are not much the happier, all the same,” replied Von Steinberg,
“if ever I should have a wife, as you suggest, she may envy you your
robust health, and your youth, and your mystical powers, Hannah.”
“Lor! they ain’t much good to me,” said the girl, “but if you likes
’em, you’re welcome to ’em, that’s all!”
The Baron took out his purse.
“That is very good of you to say, and if you will not feel offended, I
should like to make you a little present in return for your kindness
to me. You needn’t tell Ricardo, you know! Let it be a secret between
you and me, and when you buy a pretty new frock or a hat with it,
think it is a present from your old friend Karl von Steinberg.”
He laid a note for twenty pounds upon her lap as he spoke, and as
Hannah’s eyes fell upon it, the expression of her face changed. She
took the note in her hands--smoothed it out lovingly--and turned eyes
up to his, that were full of something more than gratitude--something,
that made the young man stoop down and kiss her; then draw back, as if
he had been shot.
“That was wrong of me, Hannah,” he said, “I should not have done it!
Will you forgive me? Ricardo would be awfully angry if he heard of it!
He would say I was a traitor!”
“He won’t hear of it,” replied Hannah quietly, as she gazed at the
bank note.
“Well! put that away safely, and my man shall summon the cab for you,
and to-morrow I am to come and give you a lesson in reading and
conversation, is that not so? I very much want to cure you of some of
your funny little ways, Hannah, and it is so strange to me, that
sometimes you appear to have quite cured them for yourself, and then
you break out again, as bad as ever. Here is the cab! and here is your
wrap. Well! Good-bye till to-morrow, and mind you remember me to
Ricardo.”
He watched her drive away in the direction of her home, and walked
back into his own, dissatisfied with himself, and all the world.
What on earth, he thought, had made him give way to that impulse to
kiss his friend’s wife twice in one evening? He did not admire her!
How could he admire a coarse, under-bred woman, with huge hands and
feet, and an accent that set his teeth on edge?
And yet there had been something about her that evening, that had
attracted him more powerfully than he had considered her capable of
attracting anybody--than he had considered himself capable of being
attracted. It was not entirely her appearance, though she had looked
better than he had ever seen her look before--it was a kind of
animalism and magnetism, combined, which had made his senses reel, and
caused him to forget her position and his faith to his old friend,
Ricardo.
Karl von Steinberg hated himself for what had occurred, and yet he
felt that, should the time come over again, he should behave in
exactly the same manner. She was a wonderful combination, he thought,
of sorcery and coquetry, and gross, inanimate earth! He knew that the
Professor did not love Hannah as a man should love his wife--he had
told him so direct, yet should he find out that she was tampered with
by his friend, he might be provoked into jealousy and view the matter
in a very disagreeable light. So that--Von Steinberg decided--for the
future, Hannah should be sacred to him!
At the same time, he could not endure the idea that she should do for
his acquaintances what she had done for him--go to their houses and
make herself as common as a professional medium! He was resolved that,
at all costs, he would put a stop to that, even if he were compelled
to side with Ricardo, and resolve she should never sit, except at
home.
He tried to disgust himself with her, but he could not! He recalled
all the deficiencies of her womanhood--told himself that she was
coarse, ignorant, and cunning--that she was a woman to be ashamed, not
proud, of--and yet he felt drawn back and back to thoughts of her, as
though she had been the Goddess of Love herself!
He had said at first, that he would not visit the cottage on the
following day, but with the morning’s light, his resolution had faded,
and as soon as he had bathed and breakfasted, he called a cab and
drove out to Hampstead.
CHAPTER XIV.
As he alighted, he perceived Ricardo at a little distance, coming
towards him. The man’s aspect was most lugubrious. His head was sunk
upon his breast. His eyes were cast upon the ground--his hands hung
listlessly by his side. He came close to Von Steinberg without seeing
him, and when he did see him, he started, as if he were the last
person he had dreamt of encountering.
“Good Heavens! Von Steinberg!” he exclaimed; “where have you sprung
from? Hannah told me but just now that you were leaving Town for the
day.”
Karl von Steinberg stopped one moment to consider why Hannah should
have taken the trouble to tell a falsehood, but recovering himself
replied,
“Ah! I was thinking of doing so, but changed my mind! She has
forgotten that I also said, that if circumstances permitted of my
remaining in London, I should run over to give her a little lesson in
polite conversation. Your wife is eminently teachable, Ricardo! It is
a real pleasure to me to help her a little on her way.”
“For my part, I think you had better let her alone,” returned the
Professor, gruffly, “I don’t see that polite education improves her.”
“My dear Ricardo, what is the matter? Have I offended you in any way?
Pray tell me at once, if it is so!”
“Since you demand it, I will. I must beg that you will not ask Hannah
to your house again, for whatever purpose. It does her no good, but
only inflates her foolish head with an idea of importance, which she
does not possess, and introduces her to society in which she can never
hope to mix.
“Besides, Von Steinberg, my means will not admit of buying her
dresses, and paying for her cabs--and when I mention the subject,
however gently, she insults me to my face. No! no! it was with much
reluctance that I gave my permission for her to attend your party last
night, but it must be for the last time--the very last time!”
“I am sorry to hear you say that,” replied Von Steinberg, gravely,